Klink's Lousy Birthday
by 80sarcades
Summary: Colonel Klink is going to enjoy his birthday. As usual, everything goes wrong.


**Klink's (Lousy) Birthday**  
by 80sarcades

A short story, keeping to the tradition that Klink is destined to fail…not to mention being gullible, too!

Disclaimer: If I owned Hogan's Heroes, I'd be on permanent vacation right now

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It was a wonderful day.

For once, his desk was clean. It had taken him the better part of a week to work his way though the massive amounts of paperwork the Luftwaffe required to run Stalag 13; what little remained was now on Hilda's desk. His immediate superior, General Burkhalter, was in Berlin for a conference. Even better, Colonel Hogan was sick; the man hadn't left his quarters in days.

Unless someone escaped, and there was little chance of that -- didn't he run the most escape-proof camp in Germany? -- today was his day, and his alone.

It was his birthday.

Colonel Wilhelm Klink sighed contentedly as he looked around the office. _What should I do first? _he mused. _Perhaps I should read a few chapters before I go into town; that way I can actually say I did something worthwhile today._

The Kommandant reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a red -- and certainly well worn -- copy of his favorite novel. He then leaned back in the chair, propped his feet up on the desk, and fingered his way to a dog-eared page before he began to read.

Just then the phone rang. Klink looked at it, annoyed; he hated interruptions. Since he was the only one in the building -- Hilda had gone into town to run a few errands -- he might as well answer the thing. Reluctantly, he put his feet back on the ground and laid the book on the desk before picking up the heavy handset.

"Stalag 13, Colonel Klink speaking," he said formally. The response he received was less than polite.

"Where is Colonel Hogan, Klink?" Major Wolfgang Hochstetter snarled into his ear. Klink groaned.

"Right now, he is in Barracks Two, Major," he said, trying to be friendly with the ill-tempered Gestapo man. "He is quite sick from the flu--"

"BAH!" Hochstetter interrupted. "A likely story! He is up to something, Herr Komm-an-dant," he raged; Klink winced as the man made his official title seem obscene. "I will surround that camp of yours with a ring of steel, Klink! He won't be able to get away with it!"

Klink took a chance. "Get away with what, Major?" he asked bravely.

"Whatever he's up to, you idiot!" Hochstetter said angrily before he broke the connection. Klink hung up the handset before he rubbed his temples; he could feel a headache coming on.

And the day was turning out to be _so_ nice…

He had just taken off the metal lid to the aspirin bottle when the phone rang again, causing his hand to jerk and spill some of the pills. Putting the bottle down, Klink picked up the phone.

"Stalag 13, Colonel Klink speaking," he said, a little less sure this time. The nasal tones of General Burkhalter filled his right ear.

"Klink, where is Hogan?" he asked; the Kommandant's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

_What would he want with Hogan? The man is a prisoner; he shouldn't get phone calls!_

"He's sick in bed with the flu, General," Klink said respectfully. "And may I say how wonderful it is to hear your voice--"

"Klink!" Burkhalter shouted; the Kommandant fell silent. "Never mind. I will have to congratulate him on his promotion to General later."

"General!" Klink exclaimed. "What…" He didn't get any further; Burkhalter had already hung up.

_Hogan? A General? That proves it: the Allies are going to lose the war! Promoting people in a prison camp, really! What about me? I should have been a General long ago!_

Klink steamed for a few minutes before he tried to relax. Thankfully, things seemed to return to normal for the next fifteen minutes; he had actually gotten three pages of his book read before the phone rang yet again. This time, his hands shook along with his voice:

"Stalag 13, Colonel Klink speaking."

"Is this Colonel Wilhelm Klink?" a hard voice asked.

"Yes. Yes, it is," the Kommandant responded nervously. _What now?_

"I am Konrad Strasser, Deputy Adjutant to the Fuhrer…"

At the mention of the word _Fuhrer_, Klink reflexively stood up; an idiotic grin spread across his face. The voice continued on.

"…please hold. The Fuhrer wishes to speak with you." There were several sharp clicks; the line remained open.

_The Fuhrer! On my birthday, taking the time to call me! It is a wonderful day!_ _I'm sure to be promoted to General now; my greatness should have been recognized long ago!_

Just then the earpiece clicked again; another voice came on the line. This time, however, it was the unmistakable voice of Adolf Hitler. "Colonel Klink?" he asked; the Luftwaffe Colonel immediately stood ramrod straight.

"Yes, my Fuhrer!" Klink gushed, then let his mouth run away from him. "Sir," he began, "may I say what an honor it is for you to call the most escape proof camp in all of Germany--"

"Yes, yes, I know all that," Hitler said impatiently, interrupting the Kommandant's monologue. "I just want to know one thing, Klink…"

The Kommandant, meanwhile, was already dreaming of his new General Officer's uniform. "Yes, sir!" he said, happily.

"…where is Colonel Hogan?" the Fuhrer's voice finished.

The smile on Klink's face vanished instantly along with his mental uniform. After a moment, he found his voice. Barely.

"In Barracks Two, my Fuhrer. With the flu," he said, lamely.

For at least fifteen seconds, there was silence on the line; only Hitler's breathing could be heard before his voice returned to the earpiece.

"Good," he said, then hung up. Klink stared dumbly at the phone, his mouth open in shock.

***

A guilty look crossed Carter's face as he put down his handset.

"Gee, guys, aren't we being a bit mean to the Kommandant?" he asked. "I mean, he's a German and all, but…"

"He's a bleedin' Kraut, Andrew," Newkirk interrupted. "We're doing what we're supposed to do, and that's harass the enemy."

"Besides, its not fair for that _Bosche_ to enjoy himself, not when the Colonel is sick," LeBeau interjected angrily. Carter nodded, yet still looked unconvinced.

"Yeah, but it seems a bit unfair, you know. It is his birthday, after all. You can't go and ruin a guy's birthday, even if he is the enemy," Carter said. Newkirk rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Carter…" he began warningly. Kinch held up his hand.

"Look at it this way, Carter," he said. "The Colonel's sick, right?"

"Well, yeah. He sure is!" Carter said, nodding.

"And the Colonel takes care of Klink whenever we need to do something, right?" Kinch asked.

"Sure he does! Why I remember…"

"Carter!" Newkirk said, interrupting the American before he could get way off topic. Kinch, meanwhile, continued.

"So now the Colonel's sick. You heard Klink; he was actually happy to hear that the Colonel was sick. You would have thought it was a special birthday present for the Kommandant. Now does that seem fair to you?"

"Well, no" Carter said, shaking his head. "Not when you put it that way."

"So now it's our turn," Kinch said. "Our job is to harass the enemy. The Colonel can't do it himself; he needs our help. So what do you think now?"

Carter was silent for a moment before he looked at the black sergeant.

"So whose voice do we do next?" he asked. The rest of the men smiled at him.

"Attaboy, Carter! Knew you could do it," Newkirk jovially told his friend. "Besides, if we make the Colonel laugh, he'll get better real quick."

"My chicken soup will do the same thing!" LeBeau interjected. Newkirk groaned.

"Again with the chicken soup," he groused; the Frenchman frowned at him in annoyance, although he really didn't mean it.

The walls of the tunnel system located below Stalag 13 echoed with laughter as the four men joked around with each other. Carter's voice, ironically, was the first one to turn serious.

"You know, guys, I've been thinking…"

"Oh, God help us. Andrew's been thinking again!" Newkirk exclaimed; the Englishman grinned at his friend. Carter smiled back before he continued.

"…we've already done Hochstetter's voice, and then Burkhalter's, you know," he said. "And I did Hitler…"

"And a fine performance it was, mate!" Newkirk said, laughing. "I would have love to have seen old Klink's face when you pulled that one!"

"So I've got an idea for the next one," the American finished. Newkirk looked at him doubtfully.

"And just who would that be?" he asked.

Carter told him. Newkirk burst out laughing along with the others.

"That's bloody genius, Andrew!" he exclaimed. "I can just see it now…"

***

One of the more enjoyable sights in a Prisoner of War camp -- besides decent food, at least -- was seeing a woman. Any woman. The prisoners weren't that picky.

Hilda knew that the men looked at her legs; like anywhere else, it was a fact of life. Strangely, her heart fluttered whenever Colonel Hogan looked at them; he was so dashingly handsome even if he was an enemy officer and a prisoner.

On the other hand, it was the German side that made her skin crawl; she felt like taking a bath every time Colonel Klink or General Burkhalter -- not to mention other German officers -- leered at her. Still, she had a job to do; a woman's life was never easy.

As she entered the office, she was surprised to see Colonel Klink rush out of his office. There was panic in his eyes. _I wonder what General called now,_ she amusedly thought. _Men do get so emotional at times._

Her boss, meanwhile, was on the verge of panic. "Fraulein Hilda, I'll be gone for a while," he stammered as his hands twitched nervously. "I may be back soon. If Frau Linkmeyer calls again…" He didn't wait for a response, but immediately rushed out of the office. She walked to the open door -- the man hadn't even bothered to close it -- and watched him speed out the front gates. _What is going on? _

Then she saw the reason why.

Her eyes looked at Hogan's men -- the four that seemed to be the closest to him -- standing outside the door of Barracks Two. For a long moment, they stood there laughing; the corners of Hilda's mouth twitched upwards as she watched them.

Suddenly, LeBeau noticed her standing there and motioned to the others. His lips moved for a moment before the men bowed in her direction, much the way a gentleman would.

It was too much for her; she laughed delightfully before rewarding with a brilliant smile. Hilda gave a longing glance at the barracks again -- it was so boring around here without Colonel Hogan around -- and then walked inside, closing the office door behind her.

She had a job to do.

[fin/ende]

A/N : If Klink was given the choice of marrying Burkhalter's sister or defecting, he'd probably defect. God help the Allies then:-)


End file.
